Chapter 831: Going Down in Person to Be an Instructor, Soul‑Crushing Interrogation Forges Faith

Chen Yan's voice fell from the Gaotai, smashing onto the heads of two thousand people.

"You, who exactly are you bearing arms for?"

The Xiaochang fell silent for two breaths.

Then, a voice shrill enough to pierce the ears erupted from the middle of the Observing Ceremony Squad.

"Naturally we bear arms for Your Majesty, for Great Zhou!"

The shout came from a grizzled veteran with a face of flabby flesh, standing in the fifth row, clutching the hilt of his waist‑bound sword, his neck tendons taut as violin strings.

His voice rose another notch.

"What good is a Political Commissar, anyway? How dare he sit on the necks of us soldiers and defecate and urinate!"

The words hit like a stone tossed into a pond, the splash three times larger than expected.

Within the Observing Ceremony Squad, a dozen voices scattered across different spots joined in one after another, each louder than the last.

"Exactly, when we risk our lives on the battlefield, where are those Political Commissars?"

"The world won by the veteran's blood and sweat—how can a bunch of unskilled scholars dictate orders?"

"The Prime Minister is fine, but this Political Commissar system—someone has whispered evil wind into the Prime Minister's ear!"

The clamor grew louder, swelling from a dozen voices to twenty‑three, then to fifty‑six, like a pot of water brought to a rolling boil, the bubbles multiplying densely.

Zhang Wenqian stood beside the steps beneath the Gaotai, his fingers clenched two fingers in front of him, his voice forced out through his teeth.

"Prime Minister…"

Chen Yan did not look at him.

His gaze fell on that flabby‑faced veteran who shouted first, the curve of his mouth unchanged.

He waited for the clamor to surge for a full ten breaths, and until at least a third of the faces on the Xiaochang showed doubt and wavering, he spoke again.

"Finished?"

Two words.

His voice was not loud, but the two words carried weight like an Iron Anvil dropped into the Mudi, suppressing all the surging clamor.

The sound on the Xiaochang fractured a layer.

Chen Yan's gaze shifted from the veteran's face, sweeping over every face below the stage.

"Bear arms for Your Majesty?"

He repeated the four words, raising the intonation a half step.

"Has Your Majesty ever given you a single bowl of rice?"

No one answered from below.

Chen Yan pointed his finger toward the direction outside the Xiaochang.

"How many among you are Liuren who fled from Qi State, how many joined the army after noble families forced you to sell your lands and left you with no way out?"

His voice rose another level.

"Your Majesty sits on the Dragon Throne in Chang'an—does he know what you gnawed on last winter? Does he know how much of your pay was devoured by men like He Lanhu? Does he know that your wives and children at home survive on the few taels of silver you send back?"

After those three questions, the air on the Xiaochang changed, shifting from noisy clamor to a stifling, suffocating silence.

The veteran's mouth opened slightly, his words blocked by Chen Yan's three interrogations.

Chen Yan withdrew his finger from afar, pointing to the one hundred and three Militiamen arranged in the central Formation of the Xiaochang.

"Take a look at them."

The one hundred and three youths stood in the Formation, each face filled with a blend of tension and awe.

Chen Yan's voice deepened, heavy enough to tighten one's chest.

"Among them is Li Gen, who six months ago was shackled by the Iron Wolf Gang with an iron chain as a laborer; the chain wore three layers of skin off his knees, exposing the bone."

His finger shifted to another direction.

"That one is Zhou Xiaoman, whose family of seven fled from Qi State; five died on the road, leaving only him and a six‑year‑old sister."

His voice dropped another half step.

"Now they have fields to sow, rice to eat, and children who can survive—who provided that?"

He hurled the sentence out, the sound wave rolling from the Gaotai over the heads of two thousand.

"Was it given by Your Majesty?"

The audience below fell silent for two breaths.

Then, the one hundred and three Militiamen's voices opened simultaneously.

"It was the Prime Minister who gave it!"

The sound surged from the central Formation, crashing through the Observing Ceremony Squad, through the camp walls, washing away the earlier clamor raised by the Troublemakers.

Chen Yan stood on the Gaotai, letting the roar echo in his ears three times.

Then he reached out and unfastened the Bronze Button on the Great Cloak's collar.

Zhang Wenqian's brow twitched.

Chen Yan slipped the Black Python Pattern Cloak from his shoulders and handed it to the nearby Hongye.

Beneath the Great Cloak was a Rough Cloth Short Coat, identical to the one worn at the spring‑tilling ceremony six months ago.

He stepped down from the Gaotai, his boot soles pressing the Mudi of the Xiaochang, walking step by step to the one hundred and three Militiamen.

"I, the Duke, will personally be your Instructor today."

He traced a circle in the air, enclosing everyone below within it.

"First lesson: I, the Duke, will teach you how to be a person."

His voice dropped half a tone, each word bitten heavily.

"Not a General's Private Soldier, not a noble family's slave, not a knife in anyone's hand."

His gaze swept over those one hundred and three faces one by one.

"It's a person."

When those two words left his mouth, Li Gen's knees buckled.

It wasn't because of fear.

It was because he had lived twenty‑three years and had never had anyone holding the power of life and death say those two words in front of him.

Chen Yan grabbed his shoulder.

"Stand. I said it: the farmers need not kneel, and the soldiers need not kneel either."

He withdrew his hand from Li Gen's shoulder and turned to face the entire Xiaochang.

"What does the Political Commissar do? I tell you, the Political Commissar is the one who speaks for you!"

His finger pointed straight toward the Observing Ceremony Squad.

"Your pay has been deducted. Who do you look for? The officer? The officer is the one deducting you! The yamen? You can't even get through the Damen to reach the yamen!"

He pulled his finger back from afar and clenched it into a fist.

"The Political Commissar is your mouth, your fist, arguing with those Bloodsucking Parasites that suck your blood; if reasoning fails, he fights for you!"

The low‑rank soldiers below, originally hesitant after being incited by the Troublemakers, saw the light in their eyes change after Chen Yan's words.

From hesitation it turned to brightness.

From brightness it turned to redness.

At the rear rows of the Observing Ceremony Squad, Zhao Heizi's complexion turned deep iron‑blue.

He exchanged a glance with Liu Si Hai beside him; Liu Si Hai pressed his hand on the hilt at his waist and gave a signal to a few Troublemakers in the middle of the squad.

After receiving the signal, three burly Troublemakers slipped out of the line, lowered their heads, and snaked toward the center of the Xiaochang where Chen Yan stood.

Their right hands were already on the hilt of the Horizontal Blade at their waists, the pressure of their knuckles creasing the leather sheath deeply.

Gao Jiong stood in the shadow on the side of the Gaotai, his gaze flicking quickly over the three snaking figures, and his voice squeezed out from the bottom of his throat.

"Zhu Guo, three people have moved."

Chen Yan did not turn around.

"Seen."

Gao Jiong's hand had already grasped the Horizontal Blade's hilt, and his body leaned forward two inches.

"Shuyi, stop…"

Chen Yan raised his left hand, his five fingers slightly spread, palm facing backward.

Gao Jiong's steps halted in place.

The three Troublemakers accelerated, shifting from snaking to a straight charge; the Horizontal Blade in their hands was drawn from its sheath, its blade flashing three white glints in the sunlight.

"Chen Yan, today I'll let you see how powerful the old bones in the army are!"

The one at the front with the loudest voice swung the Horizontal Blade straight toward Chen Yan, the blade wind stirring the air three feet in front of him into a buzzing sound.

Chen Yan stood in place, not even changing the direction of his body.

The corner of his mouth twitched, and he uttered two words.

"Red leaf."

He paused for a beat.

"Give them their first anatomy lesson."